Tears ... salty drops that cleanse and celebrate emotions. Sometimes they explode like a torrential downpour out of nowhere and other times they sneak out softly. They appear when it's time to wash away the deep sorrow I feel or they bring life to memories like water feeds a plant.
I have a new relationship with my tears ... since Mom passed away. Every drop is embraced and given respect for its healing. Emotions travel through me, parking themselves when I least expect it and the rest of the time they come by to simply say "Hello ... I'm here ... I'm with ya and I won't stay long".
At a cosmic level (and this just struck me this morning), this bodily fluid, the vessel for my feelings, also contains DNA memories ... of Mom, Papa, Omas and Opas, and Tic Tac Omas and Opas ... my ancestors. Do my tears also contain the tears they never shed?
These thoughts crossed my mind this morning and I had this urge to share my stream of consciousness which has eluded me for a long time. The act of just letting thoughts flow liberated my "being'ness". I've been in the 'get things done effectively and perfectly' mode for too long, walking around with my spontaneous nature and creativity cloaked under the rigid coat of social perfectionism. It feels great to know that I am slowly returning to that creative unregulated state, the 'zone' that fills me with peace, with new and deeper gratitudes ...
6 comments:
Confirming once more, that those we love never truly leave us. Thank you for this Trish; so Ellena-like.
Oh Halle .... what a compliment to be so 'Ellena' like! You just made my day! Thank you ....
This beautiful post once again highlights the phenomenon that it is through inner pain - through bereavement or trauma - that a new life, new understandings, love and wisdom (and Ellena had that a-plenty, also) are able to spring up as if for the first time. I think death in all its various forms has to have meaning for us. Without it, what value would there be in life?
Ja. Truly, you are Ellena's daughter. Such poetry in your words, dear Pasha! The older I get, the more I appreciate the tears I am able to shed (my younger self would be aghast to hear it). As the full moon of April approaches (the seed moon), I send to you cosmic wishes of the best kind ... may your tears continue to water the seeds your "creative, unregulated state" is sowing.
Such unpredictable things, tears, aren't they? Times in life when you'd think they ought to come they stay away, then other times you can't stop them. Crying in the bath can be good, and oddly, I often find getting drenched with rain and having a good cry leave me with a very similar sensation. I wonder if any other animal does it quite like we do?
Cherish yours, Trish.
As a non-believer I am sure my death will be succeeded by my general oblivion. But I have modest incorporeal hopes about the week or two that follows. On the lines of: Gee he was sarky but he read people's stuff and tried to maintain a dialogue.
I have rather more ambitious hopes on behalf of Ellena. Wit and grace, an unbeatable combination
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